


Pylos

by cinderstoashes



Series: Cataclysm [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (Miiiiiiiight get a little graphic with the violence), Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Angst and Feels, Dream Smp, I promise we'll get aa happy ending........after all of the gut-wrenching angst, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, Other, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, We'll get there, no beta we die like schlatt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29525895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderstoashes/pseuds/cinderstoashes
Summary: Eight years after a war that almost destroyed Olympus, Camp Half-Blood is in an era of peace, once again focused on protecting demigods. Tommy, a demigod son of Nemesis, is looking forward to another summer training with his best friend and plotting to inspire a camp bead.Then a quest is issued and three of Olympus's greatest heroes don't return from it. In looking for a way to be remembered, Tommy accidentally stumbles upon a conspiracy to bring about the downfall of Olympus; an attempt to reignite a war of bloodshed from his childhood that Tommy would prefer remain forgotten.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, BadBoyHalo & Skeppy, Cara | CaptainPuffy/Niki | Nihachu, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Cataclysm [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168988
Comments: 5
Kudos: 51





	Pylos

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I really didn't expect that I'd be continuing this so soon. But here I am!
> 
> This fic is essentially a retelling of the Dream SMP in the same universe as the Percy Jackson series. Don't expect to see any PJO characters though, there will be references events that took place in the Percy Jackson series, but you don't need to have read it in order to read this. Also you should probably read the previous oneshot in this series, it isn't necessary but it might help get a feel for what this fic is gonna be like.
> 
> Once again, most of the godly parents are based off of [gays4thebloodgod's](https://gays4thebloodgod.tumblr.com/) 'pjo ramblings' tag. I will be deviating from a lot of things, but for the most part, the godly parents come from there!
> 
> Last thing: This prologue and Chapter One will be from Tommy's point of view, but there are four other characters that we'll hear from! For those of you who've read Heroes of Olympus, the narrators will be rotating similarly to that (except everyone gets one chapter here instead of four). 
> 
> Enjoy!

After so many years in the States, Tommy thinks he ought to be used to the heat. New York gets cold winters, but the summer air is thick and hard to breathe. It’s the humidity that _really_ gets to him though. It feels like the air is sticking to the sides of his throat.

At least he handles it better than Tubbo.

“Why are we doing this, again?” Tubbo asks. The two of them are crouched behind the pegasus stables to avoid being seen. The heat just makes the smell of horses stronger than it would be otherwise and Tommy has to avoid breathing through his nose because _gods_ these stables smell bad. He’d remind Philza to get the stables cleaned out more thoroughly, but he’s also pretty sure that if he’s the one that brings it up, he’ll end up being the one stuck with the job. 

It’s not like he’ll remember it in the morning anyways. It’s late, already past curfew and they _should_ be asleep, but Tubbo and Tommy are twelve years old and they still aren’t very good at listening to the rules. 

At least the harpies aren’t allowed to eat campers that are up at night…anymore, anyways.

A lot of things have changed at Camp Half-Blood since Tommy’s been here. When he first arrived four years ago, the children of the Greek gods were recovering from a brutal war that left nearly half of the campers dead. Now, the camp once again acts as a haven for demigods. 

Unfortunately, less fighting means more chores, and Tommy’s glad that the war ended before he was old enough to be involved, but it still doesn’t make polishing armor any more fun.

“Because Philza never lets us watch,” Tommy reminds his best friend. He peers around the side of the stables, making sure that no harpies or counselors are nearby. He doesn’t see anything, but the treeline along the edge of the woods looks a lot more sinister in the night than it does during the day. “We’ll be fine, just a few minutes and then we can go back to our cabins.”

A more responsible friend might still try to stop Tommy, but Tubbo just shrugs. “‘Kay.”

Tubbo looks around the other corner, and when they’re both sure that the area is clear, they dash for the combat arena.

It’s common for demigods to start training to fight almost as soon as they get to camp, but most training for younger demigods consists of ‘pray to your godly mother/father that you’re lucky enough to be with someone older and more experienced if you come across something that wants to eat you…and start running’. 

Tommy is only _now_ getting to start training in a more serious manner. And even then, Philza and Wilbur seem to have both agreed that Tommy doesn’t need to start practicing more advanced sets. Tommy can almost agree with them, not that he’d ever admit it. He’s not exactly willing to risk Wilbur’s overprotective wrath by practicing behind his back. 

But Wilbur never said anything about watching the older campers and taking notes.

They reach the edge of the arena and duck behind a column. “Can you see them?” Tubbo asks. He clutches Tommy’s arm to brace his weight as he looks out from behind the column.

Tommy uses his free hand to secure Tubbo’s arm. “I can’t from back here,” he replies, somewhat flinching when he realizes his voice has echoed slightly. He whispers this time, “Let’s go there, by the stands.”

They have to be more careful, because between them and the stands is one of the entrances to the arena, and when they pass, anyone inside will be able to see them if they don’t time it right.

“You go first,” Tubbo whispers. Tommy glares at him. Tubbo’s only response is a half-hearted smile.

But Tommy’s never been one to back down. Wilbur calls it reckless, Philza calls it stupid. Once, someone called it brave. That person isn’t here anymore.

By some miracle, maybe the work of his mother, Tommy sees a moment where everyone in the arena is focused on the fight, and he sprints across the opening to the stands. He tries to hide the gasp of air he takes. When he looks across, back to Tubbo, the other boy is grinning and pumps his fist in a quiet celebration. 

Tommy wordlessly holds up his hand and counts down for Tubbo to see. On one, Tubbo crouches, and then he sprints across. He crashes into Tommy and they barely manage to stop themselves from making too much noise as they fall. Really, the hard part is holding in their laughter.

“You’re hopeless,” Tubbo wheezes, still whispering, but the amusement is so clear in his voice that it barely sounds like it. Tommy grins and adjusts his necklace where some of the beads have gotten pushed to the back of his neck in the scuffle.

“I’m a _genius_ ,” Tommy corrects. 

Tubbo nods his head to the side. “Are we going to actually _look_ or was this all for nothing?”

“Okay okay,” Tommy huffs. 

They’re crouched behind the first row of seats, just barely peeking over the top so they can see the people in the arena. Four people, all older campers. Two are sparring and the others are too distracted to notice that Tommy and Tubbo are there.

Tubbo grins. “Dream’s here, I told you he’d be.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. Dream, the head counselor of the Hermes cabin, is the most visibly obvious of those who are standing in the arena. He’s sparring with one of his friends that Tommy always sees him with, Sapnap.

“Woah,” Tubbo says. Tommy doesn’t respond, but he feels the same sense of awe that he hears in Tubbo’s voice. _Woah._

With how much Wilbur shields him from fighting, Tommy forgets how _good_ some of the other campers are when it comes to combat. His only real point of reference is Capture the Flag, and even then, most of it is blurred by the trees and running and it’s rare to see a match like this. 

Hermes is well known for being the god of thievery as well as the messenger of the gods, and a protector of travelers. Dream is his favored child, the camp’s pride and joy. He’s the best fighter at camp. He and his closest friends, the son of Hephaestus and the son of Aphrodite, have never failed a single quest.

Tommy will never say it to their faces, but he looks up to them. One day, he hopes he and Tubbo can be like them in a lot of ways.

Dream fights in a relaxed way, though it’s probably just because he’s sparring with a friend instead of fighting for his life. Tommy looks at the way he uses an axe versus Sapnap’s sword. 

An axe isn’t a common Greek weapon, which makes it weird to see pitted against Sapnap’s traditional _xiphos_. Sapnap’s sword is one handed, leaving his other arm free to hold a shield. The shield is one of his best advantages against Dream’s axe.

Dream has to move a lot slower than he would with a sword, but his natural speed makes the gap between him and Sapnap awfully close. The axe is huge in comparison to other weapons around camp. Dream grips the handle with two hands and has no room for a shield.

Sapnap uses this to his advantage. He ducks under one of Dream’s swings and blocks Dream’s axe with his shield. Dream is quick to move his axe to collide with Sapnap’s sword. As the two celestial bronze weapons meet, there’s a high pitched _clash_ that leaves a ringing in Tommy’s ears.

“His axe looks bigger,” Tommy tells Tubbo.

Tubbo stares at Dream for a second, then nods. “You’re right. I think it’s magic or something.”

A few more seconds of fighting go on. Sapnap and Dream say something to each other, but Tommy can’t really understand it with all of the noise being made. At one point, Dream gets past the shield and takes the opportunity to kick Sapnap onto the ground. Sapnap doesn’t miss a beat and swings his leg to knock Dream off balance, and Dream falls onto his back.

Sapnap stands quickly and holds his sword up to strike. In a move too quick to be anything other than instinct, Dream spins his axe once and the tip of the blade just _barely_ slices at the golden bangle around his left wrist. There’s a flash of light reflected from the torches mounted on the walls of the arena, and the golden bangle expands outwards into a shield. Sapnap’s sword hits it hard enough that the impact creates sparks.

Tubbo’s jaw drops. “I want one of those!”

“It’s cuz Sapnap’s a Hephaestus kid,” Tommy grumbles, “he probably got one of his siblings to make one for all of his friends.”

“Cabin Nine must be really cool,” Tubbo says wistfully. Tommy decides not to push on the ‘cabin’ bit. Tubbo’s been in the Hermes cabin for years now, unclaimed by his godly parent. The Hermes cabin hosts unclaimed demigods. It’s crowded and stuffy, but it’s never lonely.

Tommy can’t just let Tubbo get lost in daydreams of being in a cabin, so he gestures back out to the arena. “Look, his axe is smaller now.”

Tubbo’s eyes brighten, “Oh! I remember this from class, some axes need two hands and smaller ones just need one. His axe must be able to shift so that he can use a shield sometimes.”

“Do you think it’s worth it to use a shield?” Tommy asks.

“I’d say so, yeah. You’d have to be a really good fighter to not use a shield. Or really confident, I guess.”

Tommy doesn’t say it out loud, but he thinks about how Technoblade almost never used a shield. “Yeah,” he says instead, “I guess you’re right about that.”

Tubbo looks back into the arena. He grabs Tommy’s hand as he whispers with excitement, “I think Dream will win, look!”

“Holy Hera.” Tommy catches the moment that Sapnap slashes at Dream’s chest at just the wrong angle. Dream catches the motion with the curve of his shield and uses the momentum to push Sapnap back. The strap of Dream’s shield is stuck to Sapnap’s sword, and Dream pulls his arm free of his shield.

Sapnap’s sword falls with the added weight of Dream’s shield. Dream uses his now free hand to reach out and grab the hilt of Sapnap’s sword in his moment of confusion, and then Dream points Sapnap’s own sword at his neck.

There’s silence where Sapnap and Dream both pant, breathing raggedly after all of the excretion, and then Sapnap grimaces. “I yield, asshole.”

Dream’s smile is victorious and smug. From the edge of the arena, Tommy hears someone clapping. “Good job!” a voice says.

For the first time, Tommy focuses on the other people in the arena that _aren’t_ fighting. There’s two other boys by a table at the side that’s set up with a water cooler. One of the boys is clapping and telling both Sapnap and Dream that they did amazing. Bad, from the sound of it. He’s wearing a black and red hoodie with the hood pulled up so it’s hard to see his face. But his voice is familiar and really he’s probably the only person at camp who would bother to compliment the loser of a duel.

“That was awesome,” Tubbo says, “but I hope there’s more fighting and we didn’t miss all of the cool stuff.”

“They’re _always_ practicing,” Tommy points out, “they’ll probably practice more right now.”

When he looks back, Dream and Sapnap have moved to the edge of the arena to be close to Bad. Dream is leaning against a table set up with water coolers. Tommy can just barely make out what he’s saying, something along the lines of Sapnap being a sore loser.

From where he’s sitting on the ground, Sapnap kicks some dirt at Dream and Dream just laughs. Most of the dirt misses him and lands on a blanket that’s spread out next to the table. Someone is curled up on it, probably Dream and Sapnap’s friend, George. He always takes naps at weird times. 

“Missed me,” Dream gloats. 

Sapnap glares. “Asshole, I’d have won if powers were allowed!”

“You say that _every_ time,” Bad says. Tommy hasn’t spoken to Bad very much, but the son of Ares has always seemed nice. It just makes it more fun to piss him off by cursing a lot in front of him (Tommy blames Wilbur for supplying his rather… _colorful_ vocabulary). 

“It’s not like you can beat him either!” Sapnap snaps. “Your dad is the god of freaking _war_ , get competitive!”

Bad raises a hand to wave Sapnap’s comment off. “I know I’m good, that’s all I need.”

Sapnap doesn’t look willing to let it go. “It’s not fair,” he whines. He holds one of his palms level to his chest and snaps his fingers, causing a spark of fire to burn for a second. He snaps again and holds a flame for a moment, then it disappears. “I’d win, I’m telling you.”

“I forget he can do that,” Tubbo mutters. “First child of Hephestus to control fire in decades, I think.”

Tommy frowns. “Decades? Huh. I didn’t think it was _that_ long ago.”

“It wasn’t. Decades aren’t _that_ long.”

“Well how many decades was it? I think it depends on how _many_ decades it’s been.”

“I…” Tubbo frowns. “I forgot. I didn’t pay too much attention when Sam was talking about it.” Before Tommy can respond, his eyes widen and he points into the arena. “Wait, look!”

Tommy looks, and Dream isn’t leaning on the table anymore. He’s talking towards the center, twirling his axe as he passes it from hand to hand. “I’m telling you, I’ll win every time,” Dream says with an amused sigh.

“I’m putting ten drachmas on you, George,” Sapnap calls out. It’s then that Tommy sees that George has gotten up and is sluggishly dragging himself to the center of the arena along with Dream. He doesn’t even have a weapon out, yet.

“Sorry George, I’m betting on Dream,” Bad apologizes. Sapnap elbows him.

“I might have better odds if _someone_ didn’t drag me here instead of letting me sleep,” George protests. 

Dream doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. “You said we needed more training time!”

“Be careful guys!” Bad yells to them, at the same time Sapnap yells, “Beat his ass!”

Tommy furrows his eyebrows then whispers to Tubbo, “Since they’re dating does that count as domestic violence?”

“What’s that?”

“Not sure. I heard Philza talking about it once.”

“Oh. Well I don’t know. What are the rules for demigods?”

“A lot different than they are for humans, I reckon.”

Tommy watches as George reaches to his hip, and _then_ Tommy notices the leather sheath at his side, too small to be a sword, but the perfect length to be a dagger. “Is that _Katoptris_?” he asks Tubbo.

Tubbo nods rapidly, a smile stretching over his face. “I think it is.”

Before Tommy can say anything else, there’s a soft _meow_ behind them.

Tubbo and Tommy turn around in unison, and sitting in the row right behind him is a siamese cat with vibrant blue eyes. The cat looks between the two of them with eyes that are too intelligent and much too judging.

“Tommy,” Tubbo says, matter of factly, “I think we’ve been caught.”

Right as he says that, the cat leaps between them and runs through the arena. Tommy’s stomach sinks as he realizes that the cat has dashed across the dirt and leaped onto the table. Bad scratches behind the cat’s ears, and Tommy can see Sapnap frown.

Then Sapnap looks in their direction, and Tommy pulls Tubbo down so that _maybe_ they won’t get caught.

“We have to get out of here,” Tommy whispers urgently.

A shadow looms over them, “Off to bed, finally?”

Tommy looks up to see Dream standing where the cat just sat, looking down at the two boys with a less than amused expression.

Tommy only says one word: “Fuck.”

* * *

Ten minutes later, Tommy and Tubbo are on a couch in the Big House, sitting across from a very tired Philza.

“So tell me,” Philza says, rubbing his face with his hand, “whose idea was this, again?”

“It was all Tubbo, I swear,” Tommy says immediately.

“Hey it wasn’t me! Tommy wanted to watch them fight!”

“You could’ve stopped me! You wanted to see it too!”

Tommy and Tubbo continue arguing, and Philza just lets them. Sapnap, George, Bad, and Ant (who can apparently turn into a cat, those stupid children of Hecate—) are out on the porch. Dream is standing behind Philza’s chair, and the stupid son of Hermes looks amused by this whole situation.

Philza finally cuts in, “ _Neither_ of you should be up after curfew.”

Tommy points at Dream. “They get to be!”

“That’s because they’re legal adults already.”

“Doesn’t mean they’re the most responsible lot, though.”

Dream glares at Tommy. “My friends and I are _very_ responsible.”

Philza looks at Dream like he’s telling the son of Hermes to not push his luck too much. Wisely, Dream shuts up. When Philza looks back at Tommy and Tubbo, he doesn’t really look angry, but he still looks _tired_. “Dream, take Tubbo back to the Hermes cabin.”

Dream shrugs. “Sure. Come on, Tubbo.”

Tubbo squeezes Tommy’s hand, then gets up and follows Dream out of the door. Tommy watches as Dream’s friends all follow suit, Ant back in his cat form, curled up in George’s arms.

Once they’re alone, Tommy feels a lot more like he’s about to be scolded. He braces himself for the inevitable exasperation and disappointment. But Philza doesn’t start a lecture. He just looks at Tommy with an analytical look like he’s trying to understand something he can’t quite picture, trying to clear an image that’s been dirtied.

“Can I ask why you wanted to watch them fight?”

Tommy blinks. He scratches his upper arm, feeling very put on the spot even though he’s the only one here. “I guess I just wanted to really _see_ it. You and Wilbur don’t let me, so…”

Philza sits up quickly, “Wait, what are you talking about? You’ve already started training—”

“But it’s not _serious_! It’s just kid stuff and how to _avoid_ fighting!” Tommy stands, “I know I’m a kid and all but I won’t always be!”

“Tommy—”

“Technoblade was younger when _he_ started fighting!”

Tommy regrets bringing Techno into it, but he can’t take back the immediate shock that crosses Philza’s face, or the pain in his eyes at the mention of Tommy’s older brother. The thing is, Tommy doesn’t even know if he _gets_ to call Technoblade his older brother anymore, or if Philza even gets to call him his son.

They haven’t seen Technoblade in four years, after all.

Tommy sits back down, feeling more regretful than ever. “I shouldn’t have said that,” he says to Philza, unwilling to say ‘I’m sorry’. “I know you and Wilbur don’t—I just know you guys don’t want me to be like him.”

It isn’t that Technoblade was a bad person, or a bad role model. He’d been a hero, the gods’ champion, the pride of Olympus, Athena’s favored child.

Once, Techno told Tommy that good things don’t happen to heroes. Then he’d gone and become one of the greatest heroes of all, and Tommy hasn’t seen him since. Wilbur once said he’d never sleep again if the same thing happens to Tommy.

Philza exhales slowly. He rubs his hands together like he’s cold despite the summer heat and he needs to gather whatever fragments of warmth that he can. “It’s fine, Tommy,” he says slowly. “I think…I think I’ll talk to Wilbur tomorrow.”

Tommy looks up.

“Maybe he and I can work through a schedule for you and Tubbo, and the younger campers. So that you guys can start more advanced training.”

Something in Tommy picks itself up, like his heart’s been jump-started. “Really?”

Philza stands, “Yeah yeah. Good luck getting Wilbur to agree with me though—” Tommy rushes forward and throws his arms around Philza. Philza chuckles and smooths down Tommy’s hair with one hand while his other arms hugs Tommy back. 

“Thank you thank you thank you!” Tommy rushes out. “I’ll be really good, dad! I’ll be the bestest fighter ever!”

“Better than me, one day,” Philza plays along, not correcting Tommy’s grammar. When Tommy steps back, Philza takes the moment to fix Tommy’s necklace of clay beads. Four beads—one for each summer he’s completed at Camp Half-Blood. This summer he’ll earn his fifth.

“I don’t think I could be better than _you_ ,” Tommy grins. Philza’s sword is at his waist and his scythe is still strapped to his back, an omen of death looming over them that normally frightens other campers, but Tommy’s only ever felt _safe_ with Philza.

Philza, the Angel of Death, smiles at Tommy and Tommy’s never felt more _alive_. “Come on now,” Philaz drones, “let’s get you back to your cabin. If you wake Niki up, it’s your problem, got it?”

They leave the Big House and walk in the direction of Cabin Sixteen. Tommy enjoys the quiet of the camp for the few minutes that he can. Normally everything is so loud and bright that he doesn’t get to _enjoy_ it. He forgets how beautiful the camp is sometimes—the decor of the cabins, the flowers that grow alongside the stone pathways, the pine tree in the distance that sits on the top of half-blood hill.

“Do you think I could go on a quest one day?” Tommy asks Philza in the silence, staring at the pine tree that marks the border of the camp.

Philza glances at Tommy, then chuckles. “I guess so, when you’re older.”

“The _Dream Team_ ,” he uses his most mocking tone when he says ‘Dream Team’, “guys were my age when they went on their first quest.”

“That’s true,” Philza agrees. “But things were a little different back then. If there’s a need for a quest, when you’re ready, I’ll let you go.”

Tommy doesn’t linger on the way Philza phrases it, _let you go_ , and instead takes his words as the closest Tommy will get to a promise. 

They reach Cabin Sixteen, where the children of Nemesis live. Tommy’s half-siblings are probably sleeping already. Tommy tries to be quiet as he whispers, “Goodnight,” to Philza.

Philza smiles warmly at him. “Goodnight, Big T.”

Tommy fights back a laugh and ends up wheezing when Philza uses the nickname on him, and at least he doesn’t sound like _Dream_ right now. “I’ll see you in the morning,” Tommy says through his laughter.

As Philza leaves, Tommy glances around the camp one more time, eyes landing on the Hermes cabin where Dream is sitting on the porch. Dream is looking away from him, focused on George, who apparently still hasn’t gone to sleep just yet. Dream grabs George’s hand and holds it all gently and stuff. Tommy _really_ doesn’t want to see where that goes, so he gently opens the door to his cabin and steps inside.

Before he slips into bed, he checks the locks on the chest at the foot of his bed where he keeps his belongings, and then the loose floorboard under his bed where he hides a stash of drachmas. He double checks that his half-siblings are asleep before he lies down and scoots under his bed so that he’s staring up at the bottom of the bed frame.

Tucked between the beams where the bed frame holds his mattress is a photo of Tommy, Wilbur, and Techno. Philza’s the one behind the camera, only visible by the blur of his finger cutting into the edge of the photo. In the picture, Tommy clings to Techno’s back like a koala. Techno looks the most disgruntled Tommy’s ever seen him. Next to them, Wilbur is mid-laugh, his guitar is slipping from his fingers and the photo doesn’t capture it but Tommy knows that it falls just a second later and one of the strings pops.

It’s one of Tommy’s happiest memories, and one of the only pieces of evidence that Tommy existed before camp, that Techno existed once, that the four of them were a family a long time ago.

Tommy is twelve years old now. Once he starts training, there won’t be a need to sneak around and worry about getting caught by adults or teenagers or whatever. He and Tubbo will go on so many quests and adventures that they’ll be known as the best duo that the camp has ever seen. They’ll be heroes, and they’ll prove Technoblade wrong that heroes don’t get happy endings.

Because Tommy _will_ get his happy ending, even if he needs to force it from the hands of the Fates.

He almost falls asleep right there, under the bed. But he pushes himself out and starts counting his drachmas. There are a few calls to make if he’s going to start training, and calls cost money for demigods.

Before he can sleep, Tommy goes to the back of the cabin where the furniture is cleared to make room for a shrine to his mother, Nemesis. The shrine is simple: just a small statue of a wheel and a tablet with Ancient Greek words carved into it, a hymn to his mother.

Tommy places a drachma in front of the stone tablet. “I know you don’t owe me anything, mother,” he whispers lowly so as not to wake his siblings, “but if Wilbur says I can move up in training, I’ll be really grateful.”

The drachma fades into smoke, then disappears, and Tommy knows his mother is listening.

“Thank you,” he whispers again.

There’s a weight off of his chest now that his mother has officially given her own seal of approval. Wilbur is still a problem, but if his adoptive father _and_ his godly mother agree on something, then Tommy thinks that he has a little bit of luck after all.

He’ll worry about that in the morning, though. For now, it’s nighttime, and Tommy rests.

**Author's Note:**

> As a note: every work I write in 'Cataclysm' does take place in the same universe as the Percy Jackson series, meaning that the events of PJO and Heroes of Olympus are canon in this fic. However, this takes place in the future of the PJO-verse, so all of the characters from PJO are dead of old age by now. That's why none of the PJO/HOO characters will be making an appearance. The focus of 'Cataclysm' will be on the Dream SMP characters.


End file.
